Celtic Moon by Jan DeLima Page A

head, disgusted more with himself for not seeing the truth sooner. In retrospect, viewing past events from his wife’s perspective didn’t bear well in his favor. All she had asked for was contact with her family, and in return she had been confined and mistreated—and then, in his greatest act of ignorance, brought into the woods on a cold, desperate night.
    “I will amend my wrongdoing,” Enid conceded with a brisk nod.
    “Yes,” he said, “you will. But your blatant disrespect for my authority is inexcusable. I cannot let it go unpunished. You and your daughters will move from Rhuddin Hall in the morning. Constance has an empty cottage available in the village.”
    It was a direct demotion of her intimate status in his home. It would humiliate her.
    She did not take the punishment lightly. “Because of this woman, you would deny me your home? When it was
I
who found you, huddled under a tree, with a wolf cub in your arms? When it was
I
who taught you how to care for Luc? When it was
I
who gave you a home when you were forsaken by your family?”
    “It is because of our history that I am not removing you completely from my protection. If you don’t agree with my judgment . . .
leave
.”
    She visibly stiffened. “I have nowhere else to go. My daughters . . .” she whispered.
“The Guardians will kill them.”
    “A valid reason to accept my offer.”
    “I . . .” She pressed her lips into a thin line of fear mingled with pride. The fear won, of course. “I accept.”
    “Good. I will inform Constance to make her cottage ready for you.” He waved his hand. “You are dismissed.”
    “Breakfast will be delayed tomorrow.” Her tone had a sarcastic edge.
    “It has yet to be decided if you’ll continue in the kitchens. I’m leaving that judgment for Sophie. You will be informed of her answer by tomorrow evening.”
    She hissed softly, “You might as well tell Porter to find a replacement for me.”
    “We’ll see. And, Enid,” he said as she stood to leave, “I do
not
want to be blindsided like I was tonight. Pass the word around. Anyone who has done my wife wrong should come to me first, because if I hear it from her there’ll be no forgiveness. No one other than you has earned that consolation.”
    Her expression was solemn. “I will pass your word on.”
     * * * 
    S OPHIE PEEKED IN ON HER MOTHER . F RANCINE HAD wanted the bedroom overlooking the lake; as the smallest room on the second floor it offered more privacy from the rest of the house. The gentle sound of even breathing came from the tiny lump under a country quilt.
    She closed the door with a soft click. Joshua’s bags were stacked by the door of the second bedroom, still unpacked, as were hers in the master bedroom on the first floor. That project could wait until morning.
    Stifling a yawn, she followed the sound of cupboards opening and closing from the kitchen. By the time she arrived, Joshua had most of the ingredients for mac and cheese lined up on the counter next to the gas stove.
    “You can’t still be hungry.” She shook her head. Enid had rectified her dinner after the first course. “You must’ve had two loaves of bread with the roast.”
    “You promised,” he reminded her.
    “I know, sweetheart. But it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I’ll make it up to you in the morning.”
    His shoulders slumped, disappointed. “With what?”
    “Homemade cinnamon rolls.”
    He turned his head, his interest piqued. “Blueberry pancakes
and
homemade cinnamon rolls?”
    She tried not to smile but it was a pointless attempt. “You drive me crazy.”
    “I make your life interesting,” he teased, using humor to lighten her mood, as he’d always done. “What would you do without me?”
    She reached out and squeezed his hand, marveling with some sadness that she could no longer enclose his within hers. He was a young man now, not her little boy, and it was time to prepare him for adulthood, and for his other